Stories Of the Island
by AishiExcel
Summary: Chapters nine and ten now here. The saga of Onewayglass is resolved while in chapter ten, splinters of one thing come together to form something new entirely.....
1. OneWay Glass

"Stories of the Inc."

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Summary: A few short drabble-like stories written about Feel Good Inc.

(Yes! I can write more than just comedy!)

I don't own the Gorillaz, and I don't own Feel Good Inc. It's funny… you'd think with two more singles out since I'd be writing stories about them, but, no… I'm writing about Feel Good Inc. I suppose that just goes to show you that it STILL has a hold on me even after it's become a bit old. But anyways- it's time to go on to the first story.

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One-way glass

Disclaimer: I don't own Feel Good Inc, or Noodle. But Aishi is mine. I only put her in for the reason that this story would not work without two characters to have dialogue.

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Every year, the island passed closer to it.

It circled closer and closer, with its ever-persistent tail of helicopters, around the huge tower.

And every year, Aishi wanted more to find out what was in Feel Good Inc.

She complained to Noodle about it sometimes when the Asian girl was tuning her guitar.

"I'm sick of waiting around on this damn island! I wish we'd hurry up and crash into the tower or something. There's nothing to do in this hokey little place."

Noodle would shrug and say in her Japanese accent…

"When we get there, we get there."

Sometimes the girls would stand near the top of the island and watch the helicopters.

"Why do they always follow us? The island is fine on its own."

"I do not know," Noodle would answer. "Sometimes I wish they would leave us alone."

"They can't stop us from getting near the tower," Aishi would say with a raise eyebrow.

When the sky was clear on some days, Aishi could see that huge window on the side of the tower. She strained her eyes, leaned onto the very tip of the flying land mass, but she could never see inside.

Noodle wasn't immune to the curiosity. Sometimes she'd try and look, too. But Noodle had her guitar, and it was all she needed. Nothing in the Inc. could be better than this instrument. Her guitar had her soul in it.

The day came when the islet was close enough to the tower for Aishi to reach out her hand and touch it. Straining, stretching, she brushed her fingertips against the smooth stone triumphantly. Suddenly, there was a whirring and she new the helicopters were closing in on the island, trying to chase it in the opposite direction from the tower. She yanked her hand back and sighed. She'd have to wait until they got closer.

Neither of the girls was really sure about the outside of the island. They knew there was a city down there; they caught glimpses of it on days when there were no clouds. But it always seemed empty, lifeless. Besides the city, they knew very little. They knew about what the helicopters brought them, and about the things inside of the windmill. Late at night they'd stay up, and speculate about the "outside". Maybe it was a wonderful place, filled with candy and TV and music, the things the helicopters would only bring them in little tastes, and then take away. Maybe Feel Good Inc. WAS the world, and everyone had moved into the tower just like the people in the city down below. Maybe there were towers all over the world, where all the magic came from, and maybe more islands just like theirs with girls just like them.

And then the time finally came. Aishi awoke in the morning to see the island the closest it had ever gotten. The dirt edge was brushing the wall of the stone tower.

"Noodle! Noodle, get up quick!"

Noodle sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Nani? What is?"

"It's Feel Good Inc!" Aishi exclaimed, jumping up and down lightly. "We're here!"

She dashed to the end of the isle which was rubbing against the window, prepared to see all kinds of wonders. Instead she saw nothing.

The thick glass was mirrored. Aishi pushed her face up against it, resting a hand on its cool surface. She couldn't even make out the shapes of what lied inside of it.

Noodle frowned. "For many years we have wanted to know what is in the island. Will they not give us a trace, a warning?"

"What's it like in there anyways!" Aishi demanded.

Inside, one blue-haired figure rested his hand on the window, a gesture exactly mirroring Aishi's. "You don' wanna switch places wi' me," he said softly, knowing well that they couldn't hear him.

Noodle grabbed her guitar and stood up. "We must go into the Inc." she said calmly. "I believe we were meant to enter it."

Aishi nodded and a determined look crossed her face. "The tower has taunted us for too long."

Inside a look of regret crossed 2D's face. He would give anything for the chance that those girls had thrown away… for he knew that after meeting with the tower, the windmill took up a new flight, away from this place completely. And by the time it came back, it was too late. The Inc. had you.

You could see out of Feel Good Inc, but you couldn't see in.

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Okay! The first story of this little… what do I call it, series… has been written. I know, it seems quite … stupid when you read it the first time, but look deeper. There are a lot of metaphors in this story, and nothing is what I call it. It's just me, attempting to be "deep" and "intelligent", and making myself sound like some stuck-up artsy writer. Anyways, read and review, and if it STILL doesn't make sense, just let me know and I'll explain a bit! There's nothing I love more than discussing something a little deeper than "look, bananas!" So… the next chap will be up in a bit, provided that anyone wants to hear it. LOVE YOU ALL! HAIL IL PALAZZO! 


	2. Island

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"Island"

Summary: Though the tower could throw many temptations at him, there was something it could never give him.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Gorillaz, or 2D. The nameless girl in this fanfic belongs to me… I guess. Although she's really just and extension of the Inc. itself…

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2D sat in his usual place, the chair near the wall.

Around him, the Inc. was busy, fulfilling all the earthly desires of its patrons. Those who were not partying lay sprawled on the floor, passed out from alcohol or exhausted from exerting themselves in pleasure. 2D watched them hollowly and drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair.

The Inc. sensed that one of its "clients" was unhappy, and shifted restlessly. It could not have this- you were not allowed to NOT feel good. This was Feel Good Incorporated after all.

A scantily clad girl slid herself up to 2D's chair, pressing her small breasts against his arm and giggling. He gazed past her absently, causing her rosebud mouth to twist into a pout. She sat back on her heels, staring contemptuously at him.

"Don't you feel?" she whispered, sliding her hand up his knee and letting it linger on his groin.

2D gave a slight reaction and nodded vaguely. Determinedly, she rubbed against him.

"I'm yours, you know, you can screw me however you want." she purred. "I'm all ready for you."

"Or..." she continued, seeing this was getting her nowhere, "I can take charge of you." At this, she climbed into his lap, straddling his waist, with only a thin layer of skimpy underwear dividing her from him. This would be enough to send any other clients mad, but this guy was absolutely distracted.

She pouted again, a cute, tempting pout.

"Maybe you're gay," she suggested. "Like a little extra something in the pants? That's not a problem. We'll arrange for someone to please you."

2D shook his head. "Not gay," he mumbled.

"Then what the fuck do you want?" she snapped in irritation.

He looked out the window at this comment. Passing by, leisurely, you could see the shape of the island sailing like some demented airplane. Sitting on the end of it was a young girl, Asian, long black hair. Not very good-looking, but with this guy's gaze you'd think he was lusting after her BAD.

"You want HER? Like your flesh young, untouched, is that it? The Inc. can get her- bring her in."

"No!" whispered 2D; he seemed horrified at this thought. "Not the girl!"

"What?" snapped the Inc. temptress straddling his lap. "What? Windmills turn you on or something?"

The island drifted by, and soon it was out of sight. With a little sigh, 2D slumped back into the seat and closed his eyes.

The girl stood up and turned away with a huff. The tower could offer him anything- any substance, any person, companion, experience, it didn't discriminate against preference or addiction. So why the fuck did this guy look so desperate over a patch of flying dirt?

She mumbled under her breath as she turned away. "I'm going to go entertain that guy with the bass. He's much more fun.

2D just sat in his chair, as always, longing for the one thing the tower couldn't give him, as always.

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What do you think of this second story in my saga? I'm so happy- I actually have reviews for this. I thought people would be tired of Feel Good Inc stories or something- who knows. Anyways, this one is a bit simpler, and though the content is more m-rated than the last one, I'd say I don't feel as though it's as... important as One-Way glass was to me. The first story was one of those halfway good ones that I can only come up with at about three-o-clock in the morning by lamplight. Yeah, all my best creations are born in the night, so if I ever get writers block I just stay awake until I'm half-asleep, and then I get all kinds of inspiration. But, I'm rambling now.

Anyways, read and review and the next story will be up soon. It's a very SHORT story, though, no more than two or three paragraphs. Unusual for me, the writer who is incapable of ending a story before it has at least twenty pages LOL. Anyways, thanks for your time readers. Lots of love from… Aishi chan.

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	3. Rhythm

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"Rhythm"

(A VERY short blurb about Russel's hook in the Inc. …)

Disclaimer: I don't own Russel, Feel Good Inc. or the Gorillaz.

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… Beat, beat, beat.

His hands moved by themselves.

Boom-chk, boom-chk! Boom-chk, boom-chk! That was the rhythm.

It was a simple beat, but a catchy one. It lodged itself in your skull, and inside that beat were all the secrets of the world.

The Inc. was a huge place. Gigantic- and in it, all vices were supported in it. Lust, sloth, gluttony, greed, pride, wrath, and envy- all sins had their outlets. But there was only ever one thing that interested him. This drum kit and the sound he could make with it.

The others… they all had their hook, their fix. The guy with the bass- he had the girls. That was his entire purpose, his entire reason for breath. That female flesh… he took more and more, trying to feed some impossible lust that would never be quenched. Others… they had the drugs, the music, the alcohol, hell, even just the party itself. They kept taking more and more, until the buzz wore off, and then lay unconscious on the floor for days.

But he didn't need any of that. He had his drums.

Once, he had been something outside of this tower. He'd had a name, lived in a- where had he lived? Memories buzzed around the edges of his eyes. They were never quite visible, but they taunted him mercilessly.

He wondered if they haunted everyone in this godforsaken tower. He pounded on the drums harder, trying to knock them out of his cranium. He tried to lose himself in that rhythm-

This was what had driven that other guy insane. That's why he spent all day either staring out the window, or huddled in the corner. Russel clung to the beat. Don't let me end up insane, he begged. Perhaps some of the drugs in the room had seeped into his brain, or perhaps he had succeeded in drumming away that sensation, because a sudden pleasant numbness washed over him, and then it was just him and that beat.

Boom-chk, boom-chk! Boom-chk, boom-chk!

…Beat, beat, beat. His hands moved by themselves.

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Hello again! Not another long rambling author's note- (groan). Sorry. I'm just going to make it short this time, I promise. Anyways- I don't know, I thought this story was kind of pointless after reading it a few times, but what can I say? I'm a master of pointlessness. So long as the content is good, what do the end results matter? (Actually, that's stupid- the end is pretty important. But I'm just no good with endings.) Anyways, let me say something completely irrelevant- I am now fifteen and I am now officially employed! Whoopee! My birthday was December fifteenth, so if you bother reviewing, wish me a happy birthday! (No, you don't actually have to, I apologize) Argh. Next story will be up soon- a sequel to one-way glass. After that, I'm out of ideas, so message me with ideas (if that's not illegal- XX) Anyways … hail Il Palazzo! 


	4. Icarus

"Icarus"

This one is about Murdoc… I don't own Gorillaz!

Author's note: Jesus, it's been AGES since I've updated! For that matter, it's been AGES since I've... Paid attention to things! It's all the anime coming on Adult Swim that must be it. I'm becoming distracted by Gundam Seed and Full Metal Alchemist. sigh I am sorry 2d, Murdoc, noodle and Russel! hugs each of them in turn Ah, well, its 2006! Wee, wee, wee-eel!

One gnarled hand plucked a chord on his instrument; the other stroked the woman beside him. He leered at her and leant over to whisper in his ear, and then he called the other women to him. They came to huddle around him, cute expressions of vague curiosity on their faces.

"I'm gonna tell you all a story," he announces, in a raspy voice. The girls look at each other excitedly.

"Now I know a lot more about this tower than any of you li'l ladies combined," he says proudly. "I was 'ere since the stones of this thing were laid. I 'elped put a good few of 'em in place.

"But I'll be damned if I didn't realize too late that I didn't put a door on the thing. So I'd trapped myself 'ere. Heaven though it may be, I hate being trapped ANY place, even if it's by choice.

"I wanted one last breath of the world. One last kiss to that lady out there where I'd come from. No I'm no genius, but I have connections, y'know, someone who used to be in this very tower. He was smart, smart enough to get us out of this place; he came up with a plan."

The girls "ooh" and "ahh" amongst them, this is something new, something taboo- talks of the outside world. Could it be this man had seen it? That one thing none of them had even dared to imagine?

"It was like in that story. He built us wings. Wax wings." An almost wistful look crosses the man's face; he shakes his head and continues the story. "'E straps 'em to 'is back, and we jump out of the window. 'Ere we are, sailing on the wind, flying around and riding with the clouds around our knees like the sky's just another mistress pleasing us.

"I wanted to go higher, though, higher. I went up; too late I heard 'im yelling that I couldn't fly up that far. I had the sun on my back. I was higher than any of those bastards down there. I was the king of it all.

"But the wings- the started to melt…the wax dripped, the feathers fell out. And then I was falling like nothing."

The girls all gasp. "What happened then?" a blonde asks.

"Why I fell right back into this tower, to spend the rest of my time with all you lovely ladies," he said, grabbing the woman playfully.

The girls giggle and surround him. "But don't you ever want to get out again?" one daring female asks, as he steals a kiss from her.

"No who would choose a patch of sky over all this wonderful company?" he teases.

Truthfully, he doesn't much care to escape anymore. No matter if he was to escape again. No matter how high he could go the next time, he would never be able to pass that highest point. He could only glide lower and lower…

Here, he was high up in this tower. He was towering over the city. That was enough.

Those damned wax wings.

I just want to add, as an afterthought to this, that I'm in CD heaven! I now have three Green Day CD's, two System of a Down, two Blink 182, and two Limp Bizkit and of course Demon Days. I'm going to be happy for quite awhile.

Anyways, sorry for the delay, read and review please!


	5. Question

QUESTION!

A feel Good Inc. story and the sequel to both "Rhythm", and "One-way glass".

Disclaimer: I don't own Gorillaz or Feel Good Inc. Although, I was quite happy this weekend when I was playing laser tag at the Galactic Circus and it was the first song that came on. Really put me in a mood to whoop some butt. It's too bad that instead, I got hit 46 times. Ah, well.

* * *

"What are you playing?"

It was an innocent question. I never thought what it could do.

He stared at me, first dazedly and then more focused, as though waking up.

"….Pardon me, what?" ha asked, white-out eyes locked onto mine.

"What are you playing?" I repeated.

I'd lost Noodle somewhere between here and the entrance. I guess I could just wait here with this guy, and maybe she'd find me.

He scratched his head with one drumstick. "I'm not sure. It's more like it's playing me."

"Then… why don't you stop it?"

He looked puzzled. (Or maybe it was just the eyes that always looked confused.)

"I don't think I can," he answered.

I looked around once more for Noodle, and then shook my head. I was the one that really wanted to be here. She was probably looking for me.

"Well…. What's your name?" I asked, climbing up onto a massive stereo speaker and making myself comfortable sitting on it.

"I don't know." He answered again. His eyebrow furrowed like two black caterpillars.

This guy didn't know much, did he? Ah, well, he looked nicer than that guy who was surrounded by whores, and the other blue-haired guy was busy singing and staring out the window.

"You have to have a name!" I insisted. "Like me- my name is Aishi."

"I don't know my goddamn name, OKAY?" he snapped. He sounded slightly hysterical. I also noticed that, like me, his American accent came out when he was upset.

"Fine, I'll give you a name." I thought for a second. "Drum. Your name is Drum."

"Drum..." he repeated.

* * *

I didn't find Noodle the next day, or the day after that. Instead, I sat on the speaker and talked to 'Drum'.

The more I talked to him, the more he seemed to wake up. Instead of me asking all the questions, he began to reply with a few questions of his own. What was the point of Feel Good Inc., anyways? Where had he been before he came here? And most importantly- just what WAS it that he was playing?

He took to looking in the direction of the massive window on the front of the tower when he wasn't talking to me. Yet he never stopped drumming, always tapping out that same rhythm on the hollow instrument, and it was almost like he wasn't even aware that he was doing it.

And I continued waiting for Noodle. Had the tower just swallowed my fellow teenager? Did it come to life like a monster in the closet and gobble her up?

'Drum' would drum, and I would sit on the speakers, playing a game of twenty questions that rarely had answers besides "I don't know."

I lost track of the days, but at least two weeks passed this way. And then one day the massive screens behind us flickered to life.

'Drum' looked up at them. And then, something catastrophic happened- he stopped playing his instrument namesake.

"Wait! Do you know who I am? What am I doing here? Are you the ones keeping me here?" ha asked of the image on the screen.

Words pumped from the speakers, causing them to vibrate and shake. Mine shook so hard that I fell from the top of it and landed on the ground hard. The angle I landed prevented me from seeing what was on the screen.

_"Steady, watch me navigate! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-a!"_ blasted all the speakers.

"Wait! Please! I remember!" 'Drum' called out. "My name is Russel Hobbs!"

_"You gon' bite the dust, can't fight with us, with yo sound you kill the Inc!"_ rapped someone.

I blacked out.

* * *

The next day, 'Drum' or 'Russel' or whatever his name was didn't look at me, or even the window. He looked pointedly towards the wall. He was drumming again.

"Russ…el?" I asked, the name sounding odd.

He ignored me.

"Drum?"

No response.

"What are you playing?" I said, my voice sounding small even to me.

"It was just an innocent question!" I protested.

I waved a hand in front of his face. I even took off his hat and set it atop my own head. There was nothing.

I pulled my knees up to my chin and wrapped my arms around them.

"Just an innocent question?" asked a heavily accented voice.

I turned to see Noodle. I should have been relieved, but I wasn't. I didn't ask what had happened to her.

"It is what drove the singer mad with longing to escape," Noodle said, indicating the guy pressed against the window.

"Will I end up like that?" I asked her. "Either blissful in ignorance or wishing I could get out?"

She shrugged. "You ask me another question. Your question pulled us in here, your questions drove Russel to this, a question made 2D stand in front of the window all day. Perhaps we should stop asking questions!"

I shrugged. But one more question lingered on my mind, and I couldn't hold it in. "Still… what was it that Russel was playing?"

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Hello again! I am so honored that people have graced my story with their reviews, so happy in fact that I will now… um… do something for you! So on this, the day of my happiness, you may ask a favor of me and I will grant it within my power! -- I know, I'm weird, you don't have to tell me. Anyways, with the fifth … _installment _of this little collection, I wanted to change it up a bit. My style was getting monotonous and repetitive even to me. So I wrote in a style that I rarely write in- first-person. It makes the whole tone of things change, I think. I'm used to separating myself from the characters and the story, looking over it with a view like some kind of god watching from somewhere, controlling the events. In first-person things become so much more humble, so much more personal. Anyways, in your review tell me what you think of this style. I might use it more. Anyways, I know nobody opens a fanfic to read a three-page-long author's note. So review as you please and I will try to make the next chapter come along quicker! JA ne and daisuke! 


	6. Inside the Windmill poetry

Inside the Windmill

(Stories of the Inc.)

Disclaimer: I know, it's been forever since I've updated, but that's the joy of the way I set up this story is that each time I get writer's block I can look at it from a new angle and not worry about a continuing plot. Anyhow, you all know I don't own the Gorillaz, or Feel Good Inc. I thought I'd try a completely new angle this go-around, by using a style of writing I do quite often but rarely share… poetry. This is meant to be in the form of a song that 2D would sing, as a tie-in to the actual song. (The whole time I was writing this I could just hear the chords being crooned by D-san. Ah, well.)



Inside of the windmill is a little green light

It treats me real good, it treats me alright

If that glow and I would ever have a fight

Then down, down, down we would go.

Inside of the tower is a little red toy

He's a repetitive chord, and a non-stop party-boy

If that toy ever gets out, he'd kiss the ground

And out, out, out we would go.

When the ghost is around you

When the ghost is around you

When the light is around you

You'd kiss the glass.

Inside of my head there's a little glowing song

I sing at all day when the windmill comes along

If that song ever gets through the window

Then down, down, down I would go.

(When the ghost is around you

When the ghost is around you

When the light is around you

You'd kiss the glass)


	7. Siren Song

Stories of the Island

(Siren Song)

The song was just a song.

No matter how she tried, she couldn't find any secrets hidden in its rhythm, any stories waiting to be told in its bass line. She stood outside the tower for hours on end listening to it but it was just a catchy tune.

Sometimes she screamed and slammed her fists into the walls waiting for it to start up again. Sometimes she couldn't bear to listen to it and plugged her ears with cotton like it was a siren song trying to lead her ship astray. But most days she just stood there, listening to it.

The town was empty when she got there. She couldn't have known that all its inhabitants had flocked to the huge tower standing straight in the air like the hand of a fallen giant. But yet she walked the same paths they had walked, her footsteps shadowing their own, to the base of the huge protrusion on the face of the land, staring up at its single window.

And then the music had come and broken her spell, opened her ears and her eyes and brought her to her knees where she knelt before it praying to it like her god. The music, the music- it was her magic and nobody could take it away. She listened day in and day out as the sweet sorrowful chords of the singer melded into the guitar, which juxtaposed onto that ever-seductive bass line and the steady rhythm of the flowing hip-hop, over and over with the cry of "feel-good" like a promise, the vow the song took that it would make her feel good.

And then one day the song became nothing but a song.

She dwelt in the limbo it left behind, neither in that bass line nor in that sweet guitar solo, no part of it at all but all of it, the dry and empty land around the tower being it that she had left. The melancholy town where they never smiled was what she had now. She wanted desperately to move on, to be condemned to either heaven on the island or hell in the tower and not stuck as a ghost roaming the limbo that they had stretched out between the two. She haunted the vacant buildings and homes, watched the helicopters swoop by like giant dragonflies with stingers, stared up into the sky at the sun until her eyes watered with the tears she couldn't cry over her fate. And so she was a bodiless soul lingering amongst the barren tombstones of the land that jutted up into the sunset, naught but a specter of what she was.

"Which one are you for?" asked a voice one day. She looked up into eyes that weren't eyes at all but hollow shells of vision. (Like mine, she mused.)

"Neither," she whispered, "or both. Any of them at all would be fine just to give me some kind of closure… to let me rest."

"I was in there-" he whispered, pointing up to the tower that jutted out like an ugly tumor on the horizon. "And I thought if I got out of there I could get on THERE," and he gestured up to the sky so she understood where he meant. "But I dropped right through- ka-splat!" He made a smacking motion with his hands that brought a smile to her face. "So now I'm neither here no there. What 'bout you?"

"I'm all alone," she whispered. "I just wander."

She watched as he puzzled over this for a second, tilting his head at just that angle, lifting and dropping his shoulders just so. He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it up. The Smoke around his face made him even more ghostly.

Finally he asked what she'd prayed to the music he'd ask, he heart pounding out the song's rhythm in her chest with hope.

"Wada ya say we wander together?"

* * *

What do you think? Is this one a good way to make a comeback? Hello there devoted (not!) readers! I am BACK after who-knows-how-long! That's right, even though I've neglected any stories I've been following AND this story for much too long, I'm trying to get back into the swing of things! Having a social life really deters you from whiling away the hours on the internet, and trying to write original fiction really takes your mind off of fanfics. Ah, well, I'm returning now to my best-ever fanfic (one of the very few I've posted…. I need more!) The stories of the Inc! Only now I've changed the title to 'stories of the island.' I figure this way I can incorporate El Manana into things, too. Anyhow, this was a new concept that popped into my head. I wasn't planning to go in this direction with it; the first paragraph was just me expressing my writer's block. And then I thought, "When something loses its magic then the very essence of life has dried up and what are you left with?" I really liked the last line of this one.

Rah, look at that. My ramble is quickly becoming as long as the story itself. Well I'll tie it off before you fall asleep and your head hits the keyboard and accidentally sends me a bad review. Anyhow, I look forward to opinions. Please review even if it's just to say "welcome back", and thanks for your time! JA ne and daisuke!


	8. Turn Forever

Stories of the Island

(Turn Forever)

She wasn't like the others.

That was wot I noticed first. She didn't have nothing in her like all them other scrawny girls that fondled Muds all the time and giggled in my direction. She was kinda floating around them lost like a little eggshell inna pot of stew. Once or twice she looked at me with them big dark eyes kinda like mine, and she did have a nice body. But som'thin was wrong with wantin her body; it felt like I had bathed in oil. I was all slimy and greasy and I couldn't get it offa me, although I tried. So I stopped lookin at her below the neck and paid attention to 'er face.

After a while I stopped remembering how it looked. But I could draw a picture of it with my eyes closed or summat like that.

One day she came up to me.

"You are like me aren't you?" she asked with hair fallin' in front of her eyes.

"Whattaya mean?" I asked, taking an extra deep drag on my ciggy. I was getting a rush of some little magic pill the girl with the purple streaks had given me.

"Like me, you know …" She hesitated and dropped her voice to a whisper. "You don't really wanna be here."

"I dunno it's pretty good to me," I said with a little grin, the kind Muds had built from years a' practice, the sleep-with-me grin.

She looked lost so I slipped an arm round her waist. "Don't worry bout it doll. Just enjoy the music and the view if ya don't do any of the stuff they pass around. Even if ya don't like drinkin' or summthin there's plenty ta do." I was quickly slipping into philosophizing mood with the rush that li'l tablet had given me. "You're free of ev'r'thing 'ere."

"No you're not and you know it…" She looked positively d'pressed. "Never mind."

I tightened my arm on her waist. "Don't go."

She looked away.

I leaned my head back; coz the high was making me sick, and tried ta swallow my vomit. I let go of her and leaped to my feet to dash into a corner and spew. It smelled like crap. I wiped my mouth, chokin'.

There was a long silence and then I felt 'er li'l hand on my bare shoulder, just above yesterday's claw-marks.

"I'll admit it," I whispered, both to the pile of puke and to her. "I don' really wanna be here. I don't wanna smell piss and vomit and sex every day. I wanna sleep a whole night through. I wanna hear no doof-doof-doof in the background blockin' out the crickets."

"And see the grass and the stars and the moon?" she asked dreamily.

"Yeah, the grass." I hummed a few bars of 'o green world'. It made me feel lighter and soon I was singin' the whole song.

She smiled when I finished it. "You like that?" I asked.

"I like it a lot," she said, gettin' this dreamy look again. I smiled right back coz it was a catchy smile, a rhythm smile.

"I'll tell ya wot," I said, grinning still and grinding my cigarette into the floor. "Sometime I'll write ya one, and you can sing it wit me, yeah?"

"Yeah!" she said, real excited-like. It made me feel happy the way she bounced a little. And not just cause her rack jiggled when she bounced, either.

After that we spent almost every day together, well- almost every day. She refused to come round to me when I was flyin' on some new magic or trippin' on some new rush. She hated it, so I tried real hard to quit it out, but it made my blood burn me inside out so some days I still had to. And some days the other girls dragged me away, took me for some rough stuff, the stuff that hurt but felt really right too.

Most days, though, we sat and looked out the window and she and I just talked, philosophized even, and I tried real hard to write that song. Sometimes it was hard because the Inc. won't let you have nothing to write with. But she told me she had a photographic memory.

"You just say it," she said, smiling one of them far-off smiles, "and I can remember it."

"What was the first thing I said to you yesterday?" I said, taking a swig of my Jack Daniels.

"You said 'Hello'. And then after that you said, 'Look how pretty the sun looks when it comes up. I bet you if you could taste the sky sunrises would be sweeter than anything anyone anywhere can make with sugar.'."

"No way you 'member that!" I said with a gasp. She nodded.

So I started telling her the song as I came up with it, line by line, and even singing bits of it to her. We would reach real good harmonies together. Her voice was really sweet, pure, and I thought of her as my sunrise because of how sweet that voice tasted on my ears.

One night, deep in the night when the Inc. was at its hardest, she clung to me crying.

"I wanna get out," she whispered. "I wanna get out."

I stared out the window. I stared really long and hard, just hugging her when she cried. Finally, when she stopped, I tilted 'er chin up ta look at me.

"You know that song we're writing?" I said, very quietly. "I got a new verse for it." I winked and prayed she'd understand what I was about to sing.

"_Windmill, windmill, for the land_

_Turn forever hand in hand_

_Take it all in on your stride_

_It is sticking, falling down_

_Love forever, love is free_

_Let's turn forever, you and me_

_Windmill, windmill, for the land_

_Is everybody in?"_

She looked at me for a long time, and then her eyes slid to the window. She looked back at me again and this time 'er eyes were real wide.

She mouthed a word and I nodded. Then she asked, "When?" real quietly.

"It comes around tomorrow," I whispered, and then I kissed 'er and she tasted like sunrise.

But 'tomorrow' turned into 'today' real quick and I somehow ended up far away from her, with a pill and a bottle in my hand.

I was burnin' like liquid fire and I wanted so bad for the hurt to stop, so bad. But I had to go to her, I had to-

The pill jumped down my throat like it was a Mexican jumping bean and I couldn't stop it. Ev'rything started spinning and my only thought was, "I got to get to 'er!"

I staggered over.

"It's coming," she whispered, staring at me really hard with those big dark sunset eyes. "Are we gonna turn forever?"

I was hurting all over and I couldn't talk straight. I tried to say yes but just wheezed. I fell down and couldn't get back up again.

She was cryin. She handed me a little piece of paper. And then she ran out, out, and out.

It was the words to my song, all of them. I stared, heartbroken, at the windmill as it passed by my window.

That windmill only came around once every six months. I had told her last night in the song. If we got in there she and I could hit the mainland, and just be out there together, free, with no Inc. to stop us. She and I could have made it…

These days I don't see her anymore. It's been about five months now and I know the windmill is coming along soon. I sing that song, every day, hoping' she'll hear it. All the girls have started to look like 'er. All the pills have made me see 'er. I sing it, but now the Inc. sings back, with its own words for me. I watch out the window every day for the island.

Love is forever. Love is free. We could turn forever, you and me.


	9. Shot Down

Shot Down

(SOTI, a sequel to One-way Glass and Question)

There was nothing but stunned silence as the first fatal breath of fresh air flowed into the Inc.

The window was open. The glass had fallen like a deadly crystal rain on the ground below when it smashed, glittering in the setting sun.

The music had stopped, all speech, all sound in the universe frozen as the patrons of the Inc looked at the guilty party.

It was a small girl. Her being so small made the fact that she had just picked up a speaker and smashed it through the window seem even more unbelievable.

"Aishi!" called out a voice.

Noodle came running towards her.

"EVERYONE RISE UP!" Aishi was yelling. "EVERYONE LIBERATE YOURSELF FROM THE TORMENT OF CAPTIVITY!"

For once, her voice could be heard clearly. There was no pounding bass to obscure it, no heavy drumbeat knocking it aside.

"WE CAN BREAK FREE FROM HERE!"

Free. The word was enticing. Everything sounds good when the word 'free' is used.

"What is this all about?" called a deep voice. The drummer dropped his drumsticks with a suspicious glare at her.

"The island is here," she whispered. "The island has arrived."

Noodle gasped and looked at her fellow teen as if to say, 'really?' to which Aishi nodded, smiling softly.

Sure enough, outside the sound of the windmill's turning could be heard.

Once the island had been anchored to the window, it was simply a matter of everyone climbing on, one by one. Noodle directed the flow of people, until the island held all it could and there was no room.

Some were left behind. Some just refused to come- the idea of freedom too terrifying, the idea of independence too menacing. They were institutionalized like prisoners with a life sentence who finally gain parole. Others, there was just no space for. (1)

Among them was Aishi.

"Please! Come with us!" Noodle begged.

"I'll go in the next batch," Aishi said sadly. "I want to leave room for another person. I know you'll be back."

"If she ain't going', I ain't goin'," a voice boomed and the drummer stepped off the grassy island.

"I can't leave you lot 'ere by yourselves," a sad voice said and they were joined by the blue-haired one, the one who had stared out the window so longingly.

There was a long moment of silence before the drummer put a comforting arm around his shoulder.

"What about Murdoc?" Noodle said carefully.

"He never wanted to leave." Aishi answered. "Leave him here."

Noodle took a long look at the tower. "Good riddance," she finally said before turning to the escapees.

"Everyone, inside the windmill." She smiled. "As of today we are making our escape."

A loud cheer spread through the people as they raised their arms into the air, because the future seemed bright.

As the island took off, the three standing at the window waved until it was a tiny dot on the horizon, because it finally seemed like things would resolve happily.

Nobody noticed the helicopters tailing the island.

Well! It's been a bit but here it is: the next chapter of Stories of the Island and the next chapter (possibly the last) of Aishi's little story. Poor, poor Aishi. Through this mini-trilogy her intentions have always been good but things get worse and worse. Even her last act of heroism in this story ended up making someone suffer more. I suppose it's me trying to be different, to have a hero who (even though she tries) ends up ruining the day rather than saving it and having everything resolve all nice and happy. I don't like happy endings. As it is I think that I have very few REAL happy endings in here, except for maybe Siren Song.

This story is smack-dab between El Manana and FGI, and it makes a nice theory don't you think? I guess it sounds like a good enough reason for the island to be shot down. I trailed off at the end leaving it in a sort of cliffhanger because we all know how things end. By the way, I have this symbol here (1) to say something. I watched Shaw shank Redemption recently for English, and I thought about something- why a rebellion in the Inc might not work. What does everyone thing, should I write an alternate ending to this story? I like the thought of that.

I'm entering SOTI in the G-play fan fiction contest! I hope it has a chance! I get the feeling it'll be the only one of its kind amongst a lot of OC-2D romances…… And that some people aren't' put off by its attempt at being philosophical! Anyways, this A/N is becoming longer than the actual story, so I'll leave things here. Next up will be something a little different. JA NE! DAISUKE!

Child of the Thirteenth Sign


	10. Fragments of Glass

_**Shards of Glass from the Window of the Inc.**_

During the writing of any story, you get some sentences that walk into your head complete, and you musty simply find the place that they fit in. Some times you get little fragments that don't fit anywhere, but when you put those fragments together they make something completely lovely.

Key:

/slashes/- characters the shard focuses on

(Parentheses) Told from that character's point of view

:Colon: About the character, but not from their eyes

**Bold- **first person POV

Underline- 3Rd person POV

_Italic- _?

**I. Inside /(2d) :Noodle/**

We are inside and she is outside.

How did she get there?

Who cares?

Back to the music. Back to the feeling. She's missing out.

**II. Pounce /(2d)/**

I had a cat when I was a child. She used to hide in the grass, waiting for birds to land, and when they were distracted she pounced on them, breaking their little bones, playing with them. Then she would eat the bird, and crawl into my lap giving this big, content purr.

The Inc. purred around me.

**III. Sunshine /(2d)/**

All the poisons have wonderful colors.

The pills come in all shades of the rainbow, pinks and blues and fluorescent greens, and most of all, sunshine-yellow. I guess that's why they call it sunshine in a bag. How ironic, that when you take it your world grows dim.

**IV. Paper /(2d)/**

You weren't allowed to have paper here. No books, no artwork, they even took the labels off the drinks. Once I had something written for me. The shapes of the letters on the paper held something mystical to them, some power. Maybe that was why they took it away.

**V .Smells /(2d)/**

If I closed my eyes I could see outside, if I blocked my ears I could hear the crickets chirping. I couldn't stop the smells. There was puke and booze and the lingering smoke of hallucination-sticks. Even when I was against the glass, I could never smell fresh air.

_VI. Broken Glass_

Another life lost in the Inc.

The boy had tried to jump through the window, but instead he was cut to ribbons on the broken glass.

They left his body there as a warning.

**VII. Screens /(2d)/**

The screens were always on. They projected all kinds of things, not just the faces of the Inc. Sometimes, the pictures were so real, I was convinced they were the reality and the window was fiction.

_VII. Vampires. :2d/_

The bruise was purple, with brown and yellow around the edges, spreading darkly across deathly-pale skin.

"Where did you get that?"

"It's where the vampires sucked out my soul."

_IX. Bracelet_

They had given each other silver bracelets with each other's names engraved on them. When the Inc. took them in, they took both bracelets and broke them in half.

Later on she used the very same broken shard to cut away the pain.

**X. Apple. /(2d)/**

This was my apple, this is my forbidden fruit. But now that my eyes are open, I want to be blind again.

**XI. Blood. /(2d) :Noodle/**

Her blood smelled like copper.

The more I scrubbed, the more it sank. Through my skin and into my soul.

**XII. Flames and Ashes /(2d) :Noodle/**

When the Island went down, the flames could be seen for miles. Those flames, the ones that were fuelled to burn by her flesh. Someone please, please scatter the ashes…

**XIII. Falling /(Murdoc) :2D/**

"It was so high up, falling would take years," he said softly. "Maybe you would just fall and fall and there would never be a death, you'd just fall for all eternity."

I said nothing, just looked out the window at the ground I couldn't see"

XIV. Name :Murdoc/

There was no name to call out in the moment of passion for him, no word to call each face that he kissed. So instead he called them nothing at all.

XV Snakes :Murdoc/

She had a snake tattooed on her right calf.

Wasn't it the snake that had tempted Eve? Just as it was this snake that tempted him. Goodbye, Eden.

_XVI. Dead_

"I figured it out- why we're here, how we've gotten here."

"How is that?"

"We're dead."

"But is this Heaven, or is it hell?"

"What if there's neither? Nothing but THIS?"

XVII. Food :Russel/

Some poisoned themselves with drugs, some with sex. He poisoned himself with the food. He ate and ate but couldn't satiate his appetite. He was eating himself to death.

**XVII. Suicide /(2d)/**

In the end, time here was slow suicide. Each drink I drank, each girl I screwed, I died a little more inside. Slit my wrists or hang myself; that would only speed things up. I was dying anyway, and the tower would be my tombstone.

**XIX. Games :Murdoc/**

I put down my hand. He put down his.

Aces, four aces. I lost, he won.

He laughed. His laugh was guttural. "You're mine now, sweetheart."

Sometimes all you have to place a bet on is yourself, and all you have to gamble with is your life. I didn't even have that anymore.

**XX. Fall from Grace :Murdoc/**

Every day he was up there on the stage, all of those hands touching him. And every day I hated him more. The time was going to come when he was going to fall from grace. And I was going to be the one to push him.

What do you think? Anyhow, i know this style is a little unconventional. Please forgive me.


End file.
